Chapter 62: The Evil God and the Outer God
It was a shadow, an extrely dense shadow, soaking in the illusory sea of mories.
Hearing Adela's words, Sylvia did not respond imdiately. Instead, she gazed solemnly at that figure, sensing the bizarre and twisted aura emanating from it, as well as the increasingly storm-like surge of spirituality stirring the surroundings.
At that mont, the shadow moved.
At its upper part, a slender, neck-like section began to slowly rotate, followed by its ferocious head.
In the next second, two deep purple flas, like lanterns from hell, ignited on either side of the head, staring down at the two tiny figures below.
"……"
Feeling herself locked in its gaze, Sylvia raised her head to look at the figure, the corners of her lips slowly curling upwards.
"You… that, that is… I…"
At this mont, held in her hand, Adela trembled even more violently under the gaze of that gigantic being, and her speech beca sowhat incoherent.
"Nothing much. An evil god."
"Mm… to , he should count as an old friend."
Sylvia spoke in an extrely calm tone.
At that mont, a twisted and sinister voice exploded like thunder over this sea of the Manifest Realm:
"Old friend?"
Its voice carried a hint of puzzlent, mixed with curiosity.
Sylvia did not answer imdiately, but instead let a deep purple glow rise in her right eye.
And beneath the deep purple, there was dazzling starlight—
In the next second, the deep purple light interwoven with dazzling starlight erupted suddenly, the raging spirituality stirring the illusory sea of mories. The churning, murky seawater instantly shrouded the massive shadow.
"Roar!"
Amid the enormous and angry roar, the gray-haired puppet and Adela in her hand slowly disappeared from the spot, returning to reality.
However, Sylvia’s slightly amused voice still echoed over this sea:
"A first eting gift, a re trifle. I hope you’ll like it."
"Rejoice in the delight of new life, Hethorik."
"Roar!"
With pain mixed in its rage, a trendous roar rang out again. The once-calm seawater beca clear once more, revealing Hethorik’s slightly bulging abdon.
Wandering here, it had transford itself into a spiritual form to avoid the Manifest Realm’s rejection.
Yet by doing so, it unintentionally allowed Sylvia’s still-unnad spell to achieve its full effect.
"So it was you!"
"Dog from beyond the heavens! Shaless, despicable thief!"
"You are insulting !"
The King of Loathing and Hatred, whose abdon was swelling larger and larger, could not find his target. He could only let his spirituality scatter wildly, ravaging the surrounding sea as he vented his fury in impotent rage.
...
In a vast and silent underground cave, two figures quickly sketched themselves into place.
"Hmm?"
Seeing everything around her clearly, Sylvia was montarily stunned.
"Why did we end up here?"
There was a hint of nostalgia and reminiscence in her tone.
"Evil god? Hethorik?"
At this mont, Adela, having been released and now collapsed on the ground, gasped for breath.
She had heard this na, for this King of Loathing and Hatred was quite renowned even in the Kingdom of Ulpus.
Had she just, perhaps, maybe, sohow faced an evil god directly?
At this thought, her face grew even paler with lingering fear.
At the sa ti, she instinctively glanced at Sylvia beside her, recalling her composure and confidence in the face of Hethorik, and how she even seed to have gifted him a "present" in the end.
Vaguely hearing the evil god’s furious roar, she knew that present was clearly nothing good—after all, it had even made an evil god lose his composure.
At this mont, she once again stole a cautious glance at the calm-faced Sylvia, her body involuntarily trembling once more.
Since she—no, He—could do such a thing, then her previously unconfird guess seed to be entirely validated.
She too was an evil god!
At this realization, all color drained from her face.
anwhile, Sylvia paid no attention to Adela’s reaction. With slightly trembling steps—though unnoticeable to others—she ascended the staircase stained with dark red traces.
At the top of the staircase stood an extrely ornate chair.
The gray-haired puppet turned around and slowly sat down, just as she had on December 13th last year.
That day, she had first awakened in this world.
She slowly closed her eyes, concealing her slightly weary gaze.
Feeling the throbbing pain in her head caused by spiritual exhaustion, she smiled bitterly in her heart.
Damn it, that was close!
Why was this Hethorik so powerful?
The pressure she felt from this evil god far surpassed that of any Apostle she had ever encountered!
Whether it was that Reforr from the Church of Machinery or that angel from her own church... no, from the Radiance Church, neither could compare to him at all!
As for Lakdevo, it was better not to make any comparisons.
After encountering other Apostles, she realized that this Ferryman seed sowhat too weak—
Even now, after filling the divine vacancy, it remained so.
In Sylvia’s view, it was only slightly stronger than that Child of the Moon, and even that superiority was limited.
Wait, that Child of the Moon was also under the domain of the God of Death. Could it be that weakness was a common trait among Apostles of the God of Death?
Secretly badmouthing the Apostles of the God of Death in her heart, Sylvia shifted her thoughts back to what had just happened.
Hmm... if she burned all her Authority, she might barely reach the opponent’s level.
But the outco was already clear: her burning out would last less than three seconds.
And now, she was so weak that she could not even handle Adela if she stood right there.
Of course, even in this state, sitting still, that second-stage Puppeteer would still be unable to do anything to her.
At that mont, Adela, having adjusted her mindset sowhat, slowly stood up. She glanced around with her night vision, then looked at Sylvia seated there with so confusion:
"Where is this? There seems to be an evil aura here?"
"And it looks like a large-scale sacrifice took place here. The ground is covered with dried blood, and remnants of incomplete undead linger all around."
Hearing her question, Sylvia opened her eyes and looked at her with a faint, ambiguous smile:
"Aren’t you afraid? The scene here seems rather terrifying."
"Afraid?"
Adela repeated the word, puzzled.
"Yes, you don’t seem particularly brave."
Sylvia’s words plunged the young Puppeteer into a long silence. Then, with a slightly resentful tone, she said:
"I’m actually not that timid."
"As for why I seed a bit scared earlier, don’t you already know the reason?"
"A vastly stronger extraordinary being with unknown intentions, a massive debt, being suddenly brought into the extrely dangerous and terrifying Manifest Realm, and facing an evil god’s suspected true body directly as a re mortal?"
Listening to her words, Sylvia gave a light cough and refrained from delving further into the topic.
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